Forever Yours
by nevillesgirlfriend
Summary: Esme and Carlisle's love story from beginning to hopefully end.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: To all the readers who are waiting for an update on Dudley Does Right, have no fear, I haven't abandoned it. This is a story I started quite some time ago and just decided to share. **

**Based on characters created and owned by Stephenie Meyers. I have no rights at all to them.**

Esme

Ch. 1

Soon I would hold my baby in my arms. For months I had imagined what he would look like. Yes, he. I knew in my heart that I carried a boy.

In the hours that I labored to bring my son into the world, I recalled the events that led me this point….

From the moment I knew of my baby's existence I was consumed with conflicting emotions. I loved my child with a fierceness I had never known. Yet at the same time, I was plagued by a sense of dread. For so long, I had feared my husband. How could I subject a child to that fear? What other option did I have? I had told my parents of the way Charles treated me, but they insisted that I needed to work harder to be a better wife.

For two months, I planned my escape. I had a small nest egg I had managed to accumulate while Charles was overseas, and I spent those additional months saving pennies, hiding my money in an old stocking under a loose floor board in the kitchen. With each day that passed, I became more and more withdrawn from Charles. I knew that if he ever learned of my pregnancy, it would be so much harder to escape him.

I should have known that the growing tension would fuel Charles's temper. One night at dinner, he started to complain about the simple beef stew I had prepared. Why were we eating such plain fare? Didn't he work hard to provide for me? The least I could do was have a filling meal waiting for him.

Though I had braced myself for it, the slap across the face was still a shock. The force of the blow knocked me to the floor. As if in slow motion, I saw his booted foot moving back in preparation for the kick to my stomach. I managed to roll to my back and take the kick to my hip, protecting my womb and the precious life nestled within.

With a look of disgust on his face, he dumped his remaining beef stew on the floor beside me. _I had better learn to be a better wife_. His words, while an echo of my parents, were more of a warning than an admonition. Believing he had made his point, he settled himself on the porch to have a smoke before retiring for the night.

I knew I could wait no longer. When Charles returned, I busied myself cleaning the kitchen. Because of his insistence that the house be spotless before I retired for the night, it was not odd that I lingered in the kitchen to finish cleaning while he settled down for the night. When I was certain he was asleep, I crept into the bedroom and quickly, but quietly, gathered several changes of clothes. Thankfully, Charles was a very sound sleeper, a trait he picked up during the war, I suppose.

After I carried my clothes back into the kitchen and stuffed them into a bag I used for groceries, I pulled up the loose floorboard to retrieve my small savings. It wasn't nearly as much as I had hoped to save before I had to leave, but it had to be enough to get me somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

I walked away from my home that night. I hitchhiked to the bus depot in Columbus. Early the next morning, I took a bus to Fort Wayne. From there I took another bus to Chicago, and finally to Milwaukee, where I hoped to take refuge with my cousin.

For almost a month, I enjoyed the peace of my cousin Sarah's home. She and her husband were such loving people, and they were appalled by what I had endured. However, each day I lived with the fear that Charles would come for me. And sadly, my reprieve did not last long. During a conversation with her parents, my cousin inadvertently mentioned me. We knew it was only a matter of time before the information made its way to my parents and then to Charles.

Sarah and her husband gave me as much money as they could spare, and sent me off, wanting no clue as to where I might go. I traveled farther north, pretending to be a war widow. I eventually settled in this small town in upstate Wisconsin. The people here accepted my story and embraced me. I was offered a teaching position and took a room in a house owned by an older woman, Josephine, who had lost her husband and her two sons in the war. Money was tight, but for the first time in years, I felt safe.

My reverie came to an abrupt end with the searing pain that seized my body as my child fought his way into the world. I could hear the midwife telling me to push. Her orders were nothing compared to the demand of my body, knowing what had to be done. The pressure was immense. Josephine held my hand as I put all my remaining energy into the push. Finally, I felt this great relief as my child slipped from my body.

I waited what seemed like forever for that first cry. One moment stretched into two, and panic seized me. Josephine and the midwife looked at each other, and the glance communicated more to me than words. NO. He had to be alright. I had been through so much. So much to protect him. How could this have happened.

Finally, I heard not the squalling I expected from a newborn, but more a quiet mewling. Relief surged through me. I reached for my baby, and the midwife gladly gave him over, needing to finish her duties.

I looked over my precious baby. My son. "I've been waiting for you, Henry."

Henry feebly protested his entrance into this strange new world, missing the warm security of my womb. "Don't worry, baby. Mama will make everything better."

The midwife bustled around the room, cleaning up the mess that accompanied childbirth. I was extremely grateful that she had been able to attend me. With the awful flu that was going through town, I had been afraid that she might have been brought down by the illness.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2: Despair

Gone. Oh, God, the pain.

My baby was gone. Never again would I hold his fragile body in my arms. Smell his sweet baby smell. The life that I had sheltered inside my body, protected for so long. From the moment I held him in my arms, he became my whole world.

I died the moment he breathed his last shuddering breath. For days, the shell of my body had been going through the motions of living. And now, my aimless wanderings had brought me to this place.

As I stood on the cliffs overlooking Chequamegon Bay, the rain from the storm mingled with the tears streaming down my face. I was oblivious to the rain soaking through my clothes and the wind whipping my hair into my face.

Suddenly in the wind, I heard a small cry. The sound of my baby calling out for me. With my arms outstretched to hold him, I stepped toward the sound and into nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.3: Carlisle

"Oh, Sweet Mary and Joseph. She just jumped right off the cliff. Me and the wife were on our way home from dinner at our son's, and there she went."

The voice drew my attention from the medical journal I had been reviewing. I enjoyed practicing medicine in this small town, but it was incredibly different from the fast pace I was used to in Chicago. Most nights, I spent reviewing the latest medical discoveries and treating the occasional emergency patient.

Today, because of the storm, it was cloudy, so I had decided to come in to the hospital early to check on a patient who had come in the night before. Because it was still early, Dr. Morris was still on duty in the ER, but the distraught voice drew me out of my office and toward the nurses' station.

"Over here." Dr. Morris directed as he lead the man over to a gurney. "You can put her down here."

As I rounded the corner, I could smell the blood, and from across the room, I could see that there was no hope for her. Her body lay in a broken heap on the gurney.

"She's dead." Dr. Morris pronounced after a cursory examination. In his defense, it was almost true. She was actually moments from death, her heartbeat so slow and faint as to be almost non-existent. However with my refined senses, I could tell that she was still, in fact, alive.

"Gladys," he said, turning toward the nurse hovering at his side, "please call an orderly to take the body to the morgue." He then led the good Samaritan and his wife to the small waiting room.

By the time Gladys turned to do as Dr. Morris asked, I was behind her. She stumbled, startled by my sudden appearance. Reaching out to steady her, I said, "Gladys, I'll take her down."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen." Gladys was obviously relieved to have the poor broken body removed from her ER. "Poor girl."

Now that I was closer, the scent of her blood almost overwhelmed my self-control. Only once before had I scented that heady combination of spring rain and gardenia.

When I was working in the hospital outside Columbus, a young woman came in with a broken leg. Esme. Her name had been Esme. If I had had breath, her beauty would have stolen it away. In all my years in this life, I had never felt the urge to mate. Yet I sensed that she was meant to be my mate. However, I could not bring myself to be that selfish. She was barely more than a girl. She had her whole life to look forward to.

Though the broken body in front of me no longer bore any resemblance to that young girl, I knew it had to be her.

It had taken only a moment to reach the morgue, but knowing who she was and that the next moment would be her last, I had no time to think through my next action. Gently, I kissed her swollen lips. "Esme," I quietly breathed before sinking my teeth into the curve of her neck.

I had very little time to get her to my home on the outskirts of town before the pain would begin. I had to act quickly. Picking up the phone, I dialed the nurse's station in the emergency room.

"Gladys, I'm really not feeling very well. Would you please call in Dr. Hanson to cover my shift?"

"Of course, Doctor. You just go home and rest. You're here all the time. I'm not surprised you're feeling poorly."

"Thank you, Gladys." Hanging up the phone, I scooped up Esme's body. Extremely thankful that my enhanced senses allowed me to detect human presence, I ran out of the morgue, making my way to the rear exit of the hospital and into the surrounding woods.

It only took me moments to reach the house I shared with Edward. Esme was already starting to writhe in my arms as I ran up the steps to the front door. Sensing my thoughts, Edward was waiting in the open doorway.

Unfortunately, as we did not sleep, neither Edward nor I had a bed. Instead I lay Esme's body on the sofa in my office, immediately straightening her limbs, hoping that her bones would set correctly during her transition.

"Is there anything I can do?" I could hear the concern in Edward's voice. I did not need to explain my actions to him. As soon as I approached the house, he knew what I had done and why. He could sense my mixed feelings. My elation that this woman would finally be my mate. My sadness that her young life had been cut short. And finally, a yearning to know why she had taken her own life.

"Thank you, Edward. I've already done what I can for her. Now, we can only wait while the venom runs its course. The transformation will take several days, and as you know it's very painful, and when she awakens, she'll be very disoriented, and most probably very dangerous. We need to make sure no one approaches the house." Fortunately, I doubted that would be a problem. While the staff at the hospital was pleasant, as a general rule, people avoided us. Subconsciously, they could sense our predatory nature.

With a nod, Edward silently left the room. I settled down to watch and wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4: Death

I could feel the life seeping out of me. As I drew my last breath, an angel appeared before me. "Esme," he whispered, and as the pain faded from my body, I felt his lips graze my neck.

As the angel graced me with his kiss, I shuddered out my final breath and gave myself up to oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5: Transition

I was in Hell.

Yet while the flames consumed my body, I could hear the angel's voice speaking to me. Telling me that everything would be alright, that the pain would soon be over. Though my throat burned from the flames, I let out a guttural laugh. Did he really think that the burn coursing through my veins was worse than the pain of holding my baby's lifeless body?

In death, I had lost all concept of time. The burning, however, was ceaseless. Occasionally, a cool hand on my cheek or my shoulder would offer a moment of relief. It was as if the angel was trying to reassure me.

Amid the burning pain, I sensed another, duller pain. Eventually I realized that my broken body was healing itself. Confusion broke through my pain. If I was in Hell, why would I be healed?

After what seemed like forever, the burning pain began to ease. First in my fingers and toes. It was as if the flames were slowly moving up my limbs toward my heart. Finally focusing there in a fire that burned hotter than the sun. My body bowed, and I screamed against the scorching heat.

Then it was gone.


End file.
